


burnin' for you

by sovietghoststories (lucid_lies)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dirty Talking Bucky Barnes, Doggy Style, F/M, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23307535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucid_lies/pseuds/sovietghoststories
Summary: “I think thats the first time i’ve heard you moan…it was like a fucking melody.”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 178





	burnin' for you

He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever dated.

Bucky’s always a gentleman with that crooked smile you love to kiss, eyes always kept at a respectful level. The other’s say how sickeningly sweet it all is, how its instant heart eyes the moment you walk into the room, how completely besotted he is.

Then again so are you. 

Broad and heavy with muscle, he looks like he could bench press you without breaking a sweat. A dark halo of hair, endless oceans for eyes, a jawline for days. The biggest case of RBF you’ve ever seen.

Bucky’s an absolute unit with an aura that screams for the love of all that’s holy, do not engage. 

And yet, around you, he’s kitten soft.

The misalignment between expectations and reality throws you for a loop. Unexpected in the way that a punch to the gut is. Off-kilter, floundering with no preconceived notions on how to act, what to say.

He’s so sweet and earnest and charming as fuck with a casual subtleness…

You’re a total goner.

But you can’t help being slightly disappointed. You’ve been dating for almost a year, and you’ve been ready to kick the relationship up to the next level half a century ago.

The exact opposite of what you want, Bucky’s kept everything strictly above the waist. You know it’s not because he’s not interested. Most of the time his cock’s digging into your ass, half-hard and throbbing. 

It happens like this every time; you think _finally, this is it,_ only for him to pump the breaks when he starts getting a little too into it. Any further advances are met with a tight albeit patient smile, a kiss on the forehead, and the mildly hilarious image of Bucky awkwardly shuffling off to the bathroom.

Leaving you high and dry.

Again.

It’s going to drive you into madness soon, left wasting away in your thirst. Your own hands stopped working aeons ago, and it’s pathetically sad to even try using a dildo anymore.

Impersonal, fake cock doesn’t cut it, missing that basic tactility: the tang of salt on your tongue, the glide of skin on skin, deep pulses that go straight to your toes.

Past the point of wanting the real thing, you need it if you ever hope to cum again. You’re so pent up, it’s been too long since you’ve actually had a satisfying climax instead of going through the motions.

You can’t even look at him when he does that thing with his jaw, muscles rippling beneath a layer of stubble when he clenches his teeth. Been there, made that mistake, almost embarrassed yourself in front of everybody.

You’ve taken to avoiding him as much as possible without drawing suspicions but there’s no escaping the dreams. Not a day goes by where you don’t wake up swollen and aching, desperate to be stuffed full of a cock you haven’t even seen let alone touched. You’re practically quaking with how much you need a bit of rough, a bit of rude; the wild, sweat-soaked, utterly filthy variety. 

You almost give up any and all hope of ever getting dicked down after he shows no reaction to getting flashed in public ~~a rather hair-brained idea of a horny mind involving the shortest dress you own and bending over to pick up something you _dropped_~~ when the tides turn in your favour; pinned face-first to the wall by pure muscle. 

“Thought you were being funny, didn’t you?”

Bucky’s fingertips drag along the bare skin of your thigh, flirting with the hem of your dress that sits dangerously high. The flighty touches are a punch to the face, a pit yawning into existence in your belly.

Your teeth tug at your bottom lip. Left staring straight ahead, you can’t see his expression but his words are full of barely leashed heat.

“No…,” you say, testing the give in his grip. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He makes an amused sound, slowly inching the fabric covering your lower half up until cool air dances over your wetness. “Sure you don’t.”

You wiggle, a flush of heat crawling up your neck and settling into the apples of your cheeks. 

He tsks.

“What did you think was gonna happen?” Leaning close, his lips brush the shell of your ear. His chest moulds to your back, his body hard planes that dig into you pleasantly. “Huh, what exactly were you hoping I would do?”

“Bucky.” You swallow, mouth bone dry, at a loss for words, stomach swooping. “I…”

“You what, hm?” His hand cups your bare mound, palm grinding down softly. “Were you hoping for something like this to happen, Pretty Girl?”

Who knew he’d be such a fucking tease.

This is pure torture. He’s so close but so far away…All that pent up tension, all those nights left to the mercies of your hand, the budding desperation that’s done nothing but grow in severity sweeps you away, your mind clouding with the one and only desire to have Bucky ruin you for all others.

Lust gnaws at you, sinks its claws deep until you’re shaking.

You want him to absolutely wreck you until you’re tender and so thoroughly fucked you can barely move. In lieu of a response, you shift your hips and widen your stance.

Behind you, Bucky exhales in awe as you spread open for him, your lips swollen and shiny with slick. Humming, he runs the pad of his thumb along the crease of where your ass meets your hip, inching in to glide over your clit once, twice.

“B-Bucky!”

You arch into the touch, biting down on a broken whine. The flare of heat in your belly burns brighter. Molten desire sweeps through you and settles low in your belly, deep in your bones until you ache for him.

“Look at you, so soft and needy.”

He crouches down and noses forward. You clench at the sharp exhale, the heat of his breath puffing across your cunt.

“Fuck, I can smell how ready you are,” he says, low and whiskey rough. “Absolutely soaked. God, I can’t wait to get my tongue in you, Pretty Girl.”

Moist lips brush over the back of your leg, dropping open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin. You jerk at the sensation with a shiver. Bucky chuckles and uses his thumbs to pull your folds open.

The brush of his hair, the tongue lavishing a path to your centre, the pleased rumbles escaping his lips; it enthrals, overwhelms you until you’re mindlessly desperate for anything he’s willing to give.

“Bucky, please,” you plead, pant. Eyes damp, lips trembling, face hot and sweaty, nerves alight with electricity. “Do something, anything, I can’t take it anymore.”

“All you had to do was ask, Sweet Thing.” 

It’s the only warning you get before Bucky dives in, grabbing handfuls of your ass as his tongue flattens against you with a firm stroke that follows the length of your cunt. The tip thrusts into you shallowly, teasing the ring of sensitive muscles and ends with a cheeky swirl over the hood of your clit. 

Lightning crackles down your spine. Your legs tense, your hands flying back to yank at his hair, your hips rutting back against his face, chasing that incredible shock of pleasure.

You forgot how sweet its taste was. 

You moan, helpless, “S-Shit, please don’t stop.” Your hands scramble for purchase and your thighs begin to shake and you don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to stand if it’s this good already. “Haah, oh god…Fuuuck, that’s it, Baby, right there!”

He pauses, ignoring your breathless cussing. His grip tightens and his breathing quickens, deepens. When he speaks, he sounds so goddamn pleased you can’t stay mad. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you moan…”

“Yeah?” you ask, empty and throbbing. “You like hearing me, Baby?” 

“God, you know I do.” Bucky groans, kissing your inner thigh. “It was like a fuckin’ melody.”

“Well, if you like it so much then maybe you should –”

You choke on your laugh, pitching forward as Bucky bares down on you. Thick forearms lock around your hips, tugging your cunt back into his mouth. He sucks, licks in a frenzy. His hands never stop moving, kneading the tops of your thighs only to caress a path in between them, his fingertips brushing the top of your mound. 

“Mm, you taste so fucking good, Pretty Girl,” he murmurs, sucking your folds into his mouth and delving his tongue between them, lapping at the honey of your cunt. Devours you with greedy pulls that leave you weak-kneed. “I could eat you out every day and die a happy man.”


End file.
